


My Dear Jack

by PrettyArbitrary



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Ambiguous Character Death, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blood and Gore, Captivity, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Possessive Behavior, Serial Killer Gabriel, Sexual Violence, Stalking, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 04:04:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10070666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyArbitrary/pseuds/PrettyArbitrary
Summary: My dear Jack,I want you understand what’s going to happen next, and why.  You and I are going to meet again soon.  There’s a little place just outside of Bloomington on Route 45.  I think you know it.  Nice family.  The lady of the house makes a mean apple pie.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Dedicated to sourbluefreezy and DaddyJackass, who created this AU and talked me into writing it for them.
> 
> The glorious shedar has some stunning art that goes with this au! I should add his name to the thanks, because he helped inspire this too.   
> [Piece 1](http://shedarart.tumblr.com/post/151903422185/history-untold-police-au-morrison-is-detective-in)  
> [Piece 2](http://shedarart.tumblr.com/post/151951899505/this-is-my-way-to-say-thank-you-to-daddyjackass)  
> [Piece 3 (NSFW)](http://shedarart.tumblr.com/post/152353783430/definitely-im-insane-but-i-like-when-jack-is)

_”My dear Jack”_

“Jaaaaack.” Gabriel’s voice echoes through the barn. He’s got to be somewhere up in the rafters. The corrugated tin roof distorts his voice to an inhuman rasp, makes him sound like he’s everywhere. “Oh, Jack. This has been a long time coming.”

The last time Jack heard that voice in person was in Zurich. He puts one hand over his mouth and tries to keep his breaths steady. His other hand keeps his gun at the ready.

_”I want you understand what’s going to happen next, and why. You and I are going to meet again soon. There’s a little place just outside of Bloomington on Route 45. I think you know it. Nice family. The lady of the house makes a mean apple pie.”_

“Having trouble breathing?” Gabriel asks from somewhere with mocking sweetness.

The barn on the Morrison family farm is big, open to the roof in some places, and the shadows and sounds that fill the big structure at night are confusing. The animals are mostly bedded down, but they rustle around uneasily at the intrusion of unfamiliar humans. Their stirrings keep Jack from being able to narrow down Gabriel’s movements.

_”I know what you’re thinking now, cariño. Relax. As long as I have you, your family has nothing to fear from me. You can take them off the premises for all I care. Might be for the best, honestly. Your mother’s a lovely woman, and I’d hate to see her caught in the crossfire. If you don’t show, I can always find them again.”_

A board creaks in the hayloft. Jack spins in time to see straw dust sifting down, glinting in the light that filters in from the barnyard’s floodlights.

He takes a few steps toward the hayloft stairs, then pauses. The only ways up or down are those stairs or a ten foot drop either from the open end of the loft or the exterior loft doors. Then again, he’s seen Gabriel pull less likely stunts. He steps into a shadow to one side of the stairs and listens for the thump of feet on a hard landing.

“Are you remembering the knife?” Gabriel’s voice drops in pitch, rolling through the space like an entity of its own. In the dark, with no other noise but the living silence of a sleeping farm, Jack shudders at the sense-memory of it purring against his ear.

_”But you’re the one I care about, Jack. You and I, we’ve been connected ever since I drove that knife into you in Zurich. I want you to understand why I do this, mi amor. When you see death, you think you see an ending. The truth is that it’s nothing but a passage to whatever lies after. A change.”_

_”You changed, didn’t you, when I killed you? Wouldn’t you say you’re a different man these days? The old Jack is dead. The new one belongs to me.”_

“Remember the way your body parted for the blade as it sank in? That little gasp you made as your legs crumpled under you?” 

Jack half-closes his eyes and reaches out with his senses, searching the inky dark for any sign of Gabriel’s location. He remembers, god help him. He’s lived with those memories for so long that he’s gotten good at pretending he doesn’t feel Gabriel’s arms wrapped around his shoulders every time he closes his eyes.

It’s a lot harder to pretend with Gabriel’s voice in his ears. “Do you remember how I caught you and held you as you shuddered for me? You were so beautiful, Jack. The helpless expression on your face. The way your eyelashes fluttered when I kissed the blood off your lips.”

_”I like to think you understand that you showed me a new reason for doing what I do. I used to kill stagnant people. You know the ones. Going nowhere. Wasting their lives and the resources that were spent on them. Prison costs money; why waste it?”_

It’s an old barn. Light from the barnyard glimmers through knotholes and gaps between the slats. It’s been longer than Jack likes to admit since he was a kid helping his dad work the farm, but once upon a time he knew every beam of this building.

“Do you ever think about the fact that you’re the only one who’s ever survived me?”

He still can’t track the origin of Gabriel’s voice, but a few of those flickers of light up in the vault blink out. He takes aim at the darkness between those spots, waits.

_“And then there was you. You were something entirely different. But it became increasingly obvious I’d have to kill you to stop you, and I felt so fucking bad about that, Jack. You were a light in the damn darkness. I should have just shot you, I suppose, if I had any sense, but you deserved something more personal. And then when I did the deed, felt your life draining through my fingers...I realized how it made you mine.”_

“You felt it too, didn’t you, Jack? When my knife went into you. That’s what’s got you hyperventilating now. You’re mine from the inside out, starting with those scars I left you with. Can you feel the way they wrap around you inside? The way they burrow between your ribs and pull at your chest walls? Do you ever feel them tug at you when you move and think of them as my fingers inside you?”

The barrel of the gun wavers as Jack’s hands shake. The glimmers of light haven’t come back. He draws in three slow, counted breaths as Gabriel talks.

He pulls the trigger three times.

The animals all go nuts at once. Screaming, banging and flapping fill the air, along with flying feathers, straw and the scent of hay and manure. If a man screams or a body falls, it’s too much pandemonium to tell for certain.

Jack stays where he is by the stairs, gun up and aimed out at the darkness. He waits, eyes narrowed and senses stretched as well as he can manage, as the minutes tick by and the animals begin to calm down. They’re still a lot more alert and rambunctious than they were. He watches their heads and ears turning nervously in silhouette.

Just on the edge of hearing, something hisses and whispers down the stairs.

Jack spins. There’s no one there, but on one of the lower steps there’s a familiarly shaped little clump that stands out in a glint of red. Slowly, Jack crouches for a closer look, and then takes one hand off his gun to pick it up.

A spider lily. Gabriel’s calling card.

He shouts as something cracks him across the back of the head. He loses track of everything for a while.

***

Jack wakes up and can’t move. Straps tug at his wrists and ankles, holding him stretched spread-eagled across something soft. It’s probably a bed, but he can’t see so he can’t tell for sure. There’s something across his eyes. He tosses his head to see if he can dislodge it. It shifts a bit but doesn’t come loose. Aside from the sounds of his own breathing and stressed heartbeat, there’s nothing.

Something heavy shifts on the mattress next to him. Someone. Someone leaning over him, creating a pocket of dimness and warmth above his body. Jack’s breathing picks up, because he’s pretty sure he knows who it is, and because as fingertips trail along his body from the curve of his hip to his collarbone, he realizes he’s completely naked.

“You’re not trying to pretend you’re still unconscious, are you?” Gabriel asks. There’s an amused little waver in his voice that isn’t quite a laugh. Jack’s heart does a flip in fear and nostalgia.

This man was his lover. Jack used to love that sound, tried to make him laugh just like that so many times. This man nearly killed him, stabbing him repeatedly—but not in a frenzy. Jack can’t forget that knife being pushed slowly into his body over and over again, the way Gabriel had seemed to drink in how he shook and cried out with the pain. Even in the middle of being murdered, Jack couldn’t escape the horrible intimacy of it, the awareness of Gabriel savoring the sensations of Jack’s body and what he was doing to him. He feels light-headed at the memory, only half-present like he’s falling through time back to that moment. 

Those fingers, rough and warm and familiar, trail down the side of his face. “Shhh, cariño. Calm down.” Gabriel places his palm flat against Jack’s solar plexus, and Jack realizes he’s hyperventilating.

He laughs, breathy and hysterical, because ‘calm down?’ That’s a good one. “Do you...remember...those letters?” he gasps.

Gabriel keeps petting him, hands comfortingly warm and human against his exposed skin. It’s not right. His touch shouldn’t feel human after the things he’s done, let alone comforting. “Of course I do, mi amor. I wrote them. And I meant every word.”

Jack laughs again, more wildly. “You said. You wanted to. Eat my heart.” 

“No, I said I wanted to taste it.” Gabriel leans down close over Jack’s body, the fabric of whatever he’s wearing dragging against Jack’s abdomen. A line of metallic cold might be a zipper. God, Jack hopes it’s a zipper.

The hairs of Gabriel’s beard catch against Jack’s stubble as he seals his lips over Jack’s. Nose pressed against his cheekbone, Jack can smell the bergamot of his aftershave. With a quick, deep inhale, Gabriel sucks all the air out of Jack’s lungs and then breathes it back into him. Jack shudders. It feels like Gabriel is taking control of him from the inside out. His head spins with the need for air, but Gabriel takes no mercy on him, breathing for him until Jack’s lungs stop fighting the pace he sets.

“There,” Gabriel says when he withdraws, with a final flick of his tongue across Jack’s lips. “Now that you’re calmer, we can begin.”

Gabriel’s flavor lingers familiar and warm in Jack’s mouth. He coughs against it and shifts on the bed, trying to be surreptitious about tugging against his bonds. They don’t give any more than they did the last time. “You're going to kill me.”

The room is silent, except for the sound of Gabriel's breathing, deepened with arousal. His hand keeps stroking up and down Jack’s flank, tracing over the old knife scars till they ache from the repeated contact. “I don't want to,” he says at last, like he’s feeling out the words. “I just want to do things that you won't survive.”

Jack drops his head back against the mattress and laughs bitterly. “Forgive me for not caring about the distinction.”

He still can’t see, and he hates it. Gabriel shifts on the bed, and then the mattress springs. Jack tries to follow him with his ears. The room doesn’t sound big. It doesn’t echo all that much, either. Now that the sound of his own panic isn’t drowning out everything else, if he listens hard enough, he thinks he can hear crickets outside...and there’s a dusty, old-house-and-animal-fur smell that makes him wonder if Gabriel didn’t take him very far at all.

“Are we in my old room?” he asks dully of the ceiling. The idea that he’s going to die in the same place he grew up is...he doesn’t know. Fitting. Upsetting. It feels a bit like everything he’s ever done with his life was futile. 

“Guest bedroom,” Gabriel answers after a second, and Jack has his bearings now. Gabriel is over by the sewing table in the corner by the door. The one his mom always insisted on keeping set up, even though it mostly accumulated dust and knick knacks.

Jack bares his teeth and moans with helpless anger when he hears Gabriel moving back toward him. “All these years,” he rasps. Gabriel’s weight makes the bed dip. “You always wanted to kill me.”

“No.” Gabriel’s touch smooths along his collarbones, as if he’s pressing wrinkles out of Jack’s skin. “I never wanted to kill you, Jack. If I had, I wouldn’t have called emergency services back in Zurich.” He leans down again. His curly hair tickles at Jack’s jawline as his lips follow the same path his fingers did. Every couple of inches, he gives a hard nip. Jack gasps and arches at a brush of thumb across his nipple. Gabriel smiles against him and takes it between his fingers, flicks and pinches it. Jack can’t help but moan. He was always sensitive there and Gabriel knows it. “You have to understand,” Gabriel murmurs between sucking bites. Jack can already tell they’re going to bruise, assuming he lives long enough to get around to it. “I know you do. You had your jealous streak when we were together.”

“The difference was that I drew the line at hurting anybody!” Jack’s voice cracks with fury and the ticklish brush of a sharp metal edge drawn lightly across his lower belly. He tenses, wide-eyed under his blindfold and frozen with memory. “Gabriel, please…”

There’s a sharp exhalation. “No. I want…” Gabriel’s breath shudders, and the knife moves upward, point drawing delicately below Jack’s collarbones, just where the pectoral muscles of his chest begin to swell. The touch is so light. He can’t tell whether it’s splitting the skin.

Gabriel’s voice is hushed, intense when he continues. “You’re telling me you don’t understand wanting to sink my hands into you? Wanting to peel your skin back and touch you somewhere deeper and more naked. To curl my fingers into the gaps between your ribs and hook you close so you can’t get away. You’re telling me you don’t know how it feels…” Jack hisses as Gabriel’s control of the knife slips and it cuts into him. “...To want to cradle your heart in my palm as it beats. To feel your stomach gurgle as it works.” Gabriel draws the knife a bit further along. Then his weight falls across Jack, and his tongue dives into the wound. Jack hisses again through his teeth, like he can make the pain evaporate from him like steam.

Gabriel makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. Jack doesn’t dare move as the knife slides down under his armpit and then traces along his intercostals. “I want to feel the life of your body, Jack. I want to hold it in my hands and feel all the most interior, private parts of you working. All your cogs and gears and fluids and your living heat. Is that really so hard to understand?”

No. Yes. Jack trembles, and squeezes his eyes shut because he knows Gabriel can feel it. It keeps going, slides into full-body shaking. “Undo the blindfold. Please. Gabriel, take the blindfold off.” It’s too much. He can’t do this. “If I’m going to be cut apart, murdered, raped, whatever the fuck your plan is, at least let me see what’s coming. _Please._ ”

Gabriel shifts, tugs on the cloth wrapped around his head, and then pulls it loose. Jack blinks against the light in the room and sucks down a few deep, measured breaths, forcing back the urge to give in to another panic attack. Maybe there’s not much else he can do, but freaking out won’t help anything.

He can see Gabriel’s face in his peripheral vision, drinking in everything that flits across his face. God, he’s never felt so naked in his life. 

Gabriel pushes himself up, straddling Jack’s waist. This time Jack gets the privilege of watching as he carefully sinks the tip of his knife under his skin and draws a leisurely red line with it, following the curve of his ribs. Jack chokes on a cry and feels tears of pain well up in his eyes. Gabriel tilts his head thoughtfully, for all the world seeming to admire his own handiwork, and then moves over to give Jack a matching cut on the other side. Blood wells up and drips from the wounds. They aren’t deep, but they sting like hell as the pain brings sweat to the surface of his skin.

Gabriel draws back again and bites his lip. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.” Jack’s abdominal muscles flutter nervously as the knife tip runs teasingly down them. “You’ve always been at your best in the worst situations. Never more gorgeous than when you’re driven past fear into balls-out crazy.”

“Let me up and I’ll show you balls-out crazy,” Jack snarls.

Gabriel chuckles. “That’s the spirit.” He traces the knife around the old scars, not cutting, just letting Jack feel it. With the nerves there already irritated, it burns like ice against his skin. “Too bad you don’t really mean it. Not yet. But you’ll get there, Jackie. Before we’re done here, you’ll give up all that self-control of yours and let me have _all_ of you.”

Jack wouldn’t have guessed he had so much left he could learn about pain.

**Author's Note:**

> From here, maybe Gabriel kills Jack. Or maybe Jack escapes after a brutal, flailing fight with Gabriel only to be drawn into a tense, destructive game of cat and mouse in which he finds himself slowly corrupted by ~~Hannibal's~~ Gabriel's machinations.
> 
> I know which ending I like, but I leave it up to you. ^_^


End file.
